God Supplies Our Needs, Not Our Greeds
We left Moe’s at around six o’clock on Monday morning. The cresting sun was hidden by low level clouds. It was cool, and the dew had drenched my bike.
We drove south on Interstate 95 to catch Rt.13 south of Norfolk. The sun slowly burned off the low lying clouds and filled the morning air with light and warmth. We traveled in a south westerly direction on Rt.13 with the early morning angle of the suns light flickering a strobe effect through the trees while, we moved along at fifty five miles an hour.
As a New Yorker, I have grown accustomed to seeing grand-like churches and cathedrals built with stone or brick by the Roman Catholics, the Episcopalians, or the Presbyterians. I recognized that once we started traveling south of the Mason Dixon Line most of the churches we passed were small wooden framed Baptist Churches, painted white, with names not unlike “Temple Baptist Church”, “Faith Baptist Church”, or “Bible Truth Baptist Church”. However on Rt.13 just south of Suffolk in Virginia we approached a non denominational church named the Liberty Springs Christian Church, something of an anomaly when considering the number of Baptist Churches in the area.
A sign on the front lawn of the church said, “God supplies our needs, not our greeds.” We stopped to inquire about the sign and to meet Allen Lancastor, the pastor, however he was unavailable as he was making visits with church members at their homes. We learned from a staff member that the pastor had entrusted one of members of the parish the responsibilty for posting the slogan on the church sign. It was a more faithful and an abreviated way of saying, “you can’t always get what you want, but if you try some time, you might find, you get what you need.”
On Rt. 17 we passed rows of corn as high as six of seven feet and budding fields of tobacco. In Williamston, North Carolina we stopped at a communty library to update our research. We learned that Kevin M. Jones a twenty one year old Army Corporal died of injuries he sustained from an Improvised Explosive Device on 9/22/05. He and his family were from Washington, North Carolina, just a short ride from Williamston, south on Rt. 17. We decided to remain in Washington, a community with a population of just over ten thousand. It’s located on the Pamlico River and has been dubbed as the heart of the inner banks of North Carolina.
I learned that Kevin’s parents still resided in Washington and I was able to find the phone number to their home. At about six o’clock PM, I left a message at the residence regarding the purpose of my call, with a request to be called back. I was tired and just dozing off when my cell phone rang. It was Rebecca Jones, Kevin’s mother. I introduced my self and in a very cordial southern manner she inquired about the purpose of my documentary. She asked what my political view was on the Iraq war and I told her without pause.
“Well I appreciate your honesty”, she responded with a North Carolina drawl. She stated she was agreeable to doing an interview so long as the documentary was not intended to place the US Armed Forces or the US government in a bad light. I noted the intent was to bring to light the struggles of the families who have lost loved ones in the conflict and the manner in which they have coped with the loss. She wanted me to speak with her husband, Kenneth Jones. She would meet for an interview if he and her children were agreeable to it. I called Kenneth Jones on his cell phone, a half hour after I spoke with Rebecca Jones to giver her enought time to speak him. He was in New Mexico on business when we spoke. He was reserved and non-judgemental as I provided him backround information about myself and my intentions with a documentary. He said he would discuss it further with his wife and made no indication what his opinion was.
Rebecca Jones and I spoke again that evening. She agreed to meet for an interview but not without approval from both of her children. I told her I agreed that either one of her children should have veto authority on this matter. I would have to wait until Tuesday morning before getting a final answer.